Quotes About Intensity

I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else

I have heard that for mortals, the feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy." He looks at me. "Is that right? It would explain much about your kind if it's possible to mistake the two.

te odio. te odio tanto que a veces no puedo pensar en otra cosa

when they are gone, it will be use staring across a chessboard at each other. And when I best you, I will make sure I do it as thoroughly as I would any opponent who has shown themselves to be my equal.

Hate that was so bright and hot that it was the first thing that truly warmed him. Hate that felt so good that he welcomed being consumed by it. Not a heart of stone, but a heart of fire.

Gold fabric and glittering gems are drowning in scarlet.

Tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over.

Lo odio più di chiunque altro. Lo odio talmente tanto che qualche volta, quando lo guardo, mi manca il respiro.

Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips." His eyes are black with desire. "By you, I am forever undone.

Holly Black, Cassandra Clare

Kar??l?k görmemi? duygular baz? ruhlarda kin haline gelir, bende ise öyle olmad?; yo?unla?t? bu duygular içimde, bir yer etti kendine, sonra da oradan hayat?ma f??k?rd?.

La verdadera pasión se expresa con gritos, con suspiros fastidiosos para el hombre frío.

O amor apaixonado não se extingue, transformando-se noutras paixões, ódio, ciúme, desilusão.

It was interesting that fury and fear could look so much the same.

Did she love him as much as she hated him? Did she hate him as much as she loved him?

Having a baby had been like starting a demanding new job and beginning a passionate love affair and moving to a new country with a different language and culture all at the same time. The baby filled her mind, her heart and her senses. She wanted to inhale her, to gobble her up.

It was similar to that intense way you felt when you were newly in love, or newly pregnant, or driving a car on your own for the very first time. Everything felt significant.

They spoke in low, intense voices, as if their conversation involved international espionage, which was incongruous in this small suburban café on a pleasant summery Saturday morning, with freshly baked banana and pear bread scenting the air and soft rock drifting languidly from the stereo to the accompaniment of the espresso machine's industrious hiss and grind.

She was an obsessive sort of woman, really.

Did she love him as much as she hated him? Did she hate him as much as she loved him? "We

I put it down like its too heavy.

New Orleans Maniac. shoot a nigga up til his whole body aint attached.

Im focused, thinkin like I got 2 brains.

My gun go crazy like its retarded. Red light on its like its recording.